be the subjects of imperial vindictiveness. Let the Jews be embittered against the votarics of that Messiah, who is by them so much abhorred. Let the artisans, whose craft has been endangered by the deserted shrines of our temples, be invited to exterminate the sect which threatens their overthrow. Let all the inveterate, long-smothered prejudice against these innovators, be now aroused and rekindled. With all these means, see to it that the love of excitement, of games and gladiatorial sports be turned in the same direction. Let the multitude be stimulated to crave fresh victims, and applaud even the most sanguinary execution of the laws." When prejudice is thus backed by unlimited power, it is easy to see with what fearful celerity such orders might be executed.

We must pass over, with slight notice, the events which transpired during the first few days of the pouring forth of this persecuting fury. Why should we dwell on the anguish and torture inflicted, by scourging the flesh, till its power of endurance was exhausted; then stretching the mangled and swollen frames of these victims on the rough points of sea-shells, or upon the alternate heads and points of spears; then casting their gory bodies, while life yet remained, to the most voracious wild beasts? But these forms of torture, revolting and horrid as the bare mention of them may seem, were, in reality, among the mildest which their ingenuity exercised itself in applying to these unoffending, unresisting subjects.

One of these victims, a young man of unusual distinction and promise, named Germanicus, was particularly eminent, as a martyr. a martyr. And though the proconsul,moved, it may be, by his youth, his noble family, and lofty bearing,-strove earnestly to persuade him to have compassion upon himself, and, by complying with the idolatrous practices required of him, save himself from the tortures and cruel death which otherwise awaited him, he hesitated not, but even irritated the wild beast which was let forth against him. Upon this "glorious death," as subsequent historians denominated it, the whole multitude, amazed at his courage, and at the fortitude of the whole race against whom this persecuting rage was directed, began with one voice to call for the aged patriarch, as a more distinguished victim than those who had already

suffered. He had not, amid these scenes, presumptuously courted persecution and danger, nor did he timidly shrink from it. By the warm persuasions of his friends, he was at first induced to retire before the furious storm. But now, that the public voice thus called for him by name, and the officers came to arrest him, though a further opportunity of escape was open to him, he nobly rejected it, saying, with the spirit of willing self-sacrifice, "The will of the Lord be done." With a benevolence worthy of the disciple of him who prayed for his murderers in death, he ordered suitable refreshments to be set before those who came to arrest him. Then, when he had offered up an humble prayer,-remembering in it, with minute particularity, all that had been connected with him,-breathed forth with such fervor and humility as melted the ironhearted soldiers who had seized him, they led him to the city. But who are these, in a chariot of state, that come to meet the venerable prisoner by the way? They are no less personages than Herod the Irenarch, or head officer of the police, with his father Nicetes. They persuade him to take his seat by their side, and with insinuating deference to his gray hairs, they strive to win him from his steadfastness of purpose. "What great harm can there be in addressing divine honors to Cæsar, and offering, at least, one grain of incense upon the idol's altar?" At first he remained silent, and they, encouraged, renewed their solicitations. Perceiving their misconception of his feelings, with great dignity and calmness, but so firmly as utterly annihilated their hopes of success, he answered, "I shall never do what you advise me." Then they turned their flatteries to the coarsest abuse, and thrust him from their car with inhuman violence. Injured by the fall, he bore the indignity with uncomplaining meekness, and, fast as the tottering steps of age would bear him, he hastened to the stadium. The proconsul was already there. To the question, "Who art thou?" he fearlessly replied, "I am Polycarp." The renewed attempts of this vice-regent of Rome, to induce the venerable man to swear by Cæsar, or perform some other act, incompatible with the sacred dictates of his conscience, he steadily resisted.

"Revile Christ, and swear; then will I dismiss you," said the proconsul.

Polycarp replied, "Eighty and six years have I served him, and he never did me wrong; how, then, can I now blaspheme my king that has saved me?"

The governor still continuing to urge him to swear by the genius of Cæsar, Polycarp said, "Hear my free confession: I AM A CHRISTIAN; and if you would know what Christianity is, grant me a day and listen to me."

The proconsul said, "I have wild beasts at hand; I will cast you to them, unless you change your mind."

He answered, "Call them; for we have no reason to change from the better to the worse, but it is good to turn from wickedness to virtue."

Again he urged him. "I will cause you to be consumed by fire, should you despise the beasts, and not change your mind.”

Polycarp answered, "You threaten fire, that burns for a moment, and is then put out; but you consider not the coming judgment, and the fire of eternal punishment, reserved for the wicked."

The governor, astonished at his confidence, that he not only refused to retract, but continued undismayed, his countenance brightening with joy,-sent forth the herald to proclaim in the middle of the stadium, "Polycarp confesses himself a Christian." This was equivalent to pronouncing the sentence of death against him; and that bloodthirsty populace, idolaters and Jews, with united vociferation, cried out, "This is the teacher of Asia, the father of Christians, who causes our gods to be forgotten, teaching the multitude neither to sacrifice nor worship them."

"Burn him alive!" "Burn him alive!" was now shouted and reëchoed through the throng. Fuel was collected from every side, with surprising avidity; their victim stood bound before them. He required no fastening to the stake, but calmly said, "He that now gives me strength, will enable me to remain unmoved, even upon the pile."

Then breathing forth an humble prayer, more full of lofty virtue and true piety than heathen philosophy ever conceived, in which, be it remembered, his privilege of bearing witness, in this martyr death, for the truth of the religion of his Lord, was distinctly and gratefully recognised, he was made to suffer the cruel punishment prepared for

him. His brethren and fellow-disciples then gathered up his bones, and deposited them in an appropriate sepulchre. In this case, if we mistake not, we have a fair and full illustration of the martyr spirit as above defined. The suffering in this instance was distinctly and obviously for a testimony. It bore decided witness to the truth of Christianity; and it did this, in a manner perfectly voluntary, deliberate, with ample opportunity for reflection and consideration. And this was not the act of an ambitious youth, panting for distinction, and willing to overleap the bounds of discretion or of truth, in his eager desire for notoriety. On the contrary, this witness was chastened by age and experience; his regard for truth, the firmly settled habit of integrity in him, was proverbial, and his reputation for virtue was unsullied. Then, too, the competency of this witness (and there were many others similarly situated) may be as conclusively shown as his fidelity. His position as the contemporary of one of the apostles, and eye witness of the leading facts of the Christian system, must have given him opportunity to know that, of which his testimony so solemnly affirmed the truth.

The fair laws of evidence, applied to such testimony as that now exhibited, would certainly exonerate it altogether, from the covert and insidious attacks of one of the most learned and eloquent of modern historians.

Had the celebrated author of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire composed his sixteenth chapter of that history with other views than the disparagement of the claims and evidences of Christianity, then, most assuredly, some of the glaring inconsistencies and sophistries, which now deform it, would have been avoided. Then we should not be compelled to peruse, on the same pages, the high eulogies of "the mild indifference of antiquity,' and sneers at the rigid adherence of Christians to their convictions and their vows.

Then, too, the insinuations of a want of honesty in the martyr Cyprian (whose case very nearly agrees with the one above given) might well have been spared; and the palpable non-sequitur,—that since some of the martyrs were poor and distressed, therefore the testimony of all is to be attributed to weariness of life, as its leading motive, -would not have deformed his pages. Nor would the

equally illogical assumption,-that high honors of a posthumous character were the leading inducements to their constancy in a death of violence,-have been here brought forward; false as it certainly is in fact, in reference to the early martyrs, and unfounded as it must be admitted, in the true philosophy of human motives. The high honors paid to the memory of martyrs, and the assumed sacredness of their relics, originated, as all know, in a subsequent age; nor did the life or death of Gibbon himself evince any such disregard of the enjoyments of an earthly existence, as would warrant his thus wantonly trifling with the natural love of life by others. Candor, perhaps, should dictate the admission, that undue assumption for this species of testimony, in many cases where suspicion of its genuineness is not unreasonable, had excited in this historian the habit of suspicion. It thus happens to the defenders of Christianity, as to many other over-anxious advocates of a good cause, that they injure what they would promote, by undue solicitude to press into its service corroborations of a doubtful character, whose aid is neither necessary, nor much relied on, even by those who employ them. Their opponents, however, by one of the fallacies so fully exposed, and so justly condemned by Whately, assume to triumph, because they have overthrown an out-post,-injudiciously chosen, and not deemed worth defending,-while the entire walls, and the stronger citadel remain unscathed.

Many a good cause has thus suffered, by the combination of indiscretion in its defenders, and artful sophistry on the part of its assailants. This injudiciousness is in no case more likely to evince itself, than in attempts to perpetuate and extend, unduly, that which was perfectly legitimate and available, in its original and narrower application. Thus, because miracles were efficient, in the first establishment of Christianity, they have been feigned, counterfeited, and boastfully appealed to, as conclusive witnesses in favor of the assumption of the different sects in controversy with each other. How inconclusive to every ingenuous mind the hasty postulate, that if these modern miracles can be invalidated, the genuineness of all miracles, however conclusive their evidence, may equally be questioned! Martyrdom, too, when conspiring circumstances gave a high authority to its testimony, would

VOL. IV. NO. XIII.

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